Sad Songs & Waltzes
by Patchwork Poltergeist
Summary: An abandoned feebas composes a song... songfic to Cake's "Sad Songs and Waltzes"


AN: Pokemon doesn't belong to me. Haven't you figured that out yet? "_Sad Songs & Waltzes_" belong to the band Cake. Listen to them. They're spiffy-kewl! -

Night had finally come.

The sun no longer mercilessly baked his dry scales. The taillow and swellow had ceased their endless abuse and turned in for the night. Finally. They left him alone. Completely alone under a glowing ivory moon beside a lum berry tree. There were no stars. There was no one to hurt him, no one to scorn him, no one to see and no one to care.

Night had finally come. Finally. In the pale moonlight a splash was heard as the feebas finally got to water.

_I'm writing a song all about you_

The feebas sighed and searched the murky bottom for something to eat. To get his mind off the last few hours. But his mind and heat would not allow it. They throbbed painfully silently composing a sad song made up of the memories that would not release him.

_A true song as real as my tears_

The kind of things his mind was composing…if one had heard them, it would not be believed for a second. It was an unbelievable thing, after all if you hadn't seen it yourself. The feebas almost could not believe himself and tried to convince himself he shouldn't believe, but every time his broken scales and tattered fins would remind him that it had to be believed.

And he was suddenly glad of two things: That in the water no one can see your tears and there was no one around to see them anyway.

_But you've no need to fear it_

_Cause no one will hear it_

The silence was broken by the sound of rustling grass and human voices, along with the high-pitched chattering of an azuril. The feebas looked up, saw the happy baby pokemon and suddenly felt a twinge of fear and responsibility. What if this little one ended up like him, hurt and alone? What if all it's budding hopes and dreams suddenly came tumbling down? What if?

Azuril were adorable, which made them popular but how long would it's cuteness last? The feebas nodded to himself. He had to tell it.

A brown scaled head popped out of the water. When the azuril didn't notice, he splashed until it did, and it's face scrunched up in a "what the heck is _that_?" sort of way.

_Sad songs and waltzes aren't selling this year_

"Listen! Child, I must tell you, you must listen!" a dry starchy voice cried out. "You don't know what you're in for!"

The azuril scowled and at it's disturbed trainer's command fired a bubble attack and forced the feebas back underwater for protection. Pokemon and trainer, both disappointed at losing a chance for experience, left.

In the riverbed the feebas remembered, still quietly composing.

_I'll tell all about how you cheated_

_I'd like for the whole world to hear_

It wasn't fair, it just wasn't _fair_! To wait wall that time by the falls for his trainer, his friend to come. Finally when she did, with a fine red rod and a fantastic lure no water dweller could resist, and he remembered how her face lit up when she finally saw him. The battle went fast, due to the fact that he wasn't that strong. But that didn't matter, with a trainer, a new friend he'd get stronger.

And she did try with him. She taught him good moves (what other feebas in Honen could claim they knew blizzard and water pulse?) she took him to contests, he won a ribbon, he won battles, and every single night when the world was sleeping she would whisper to him abut how lovely he would be when he finally evolved. He always wondered why she wanted him to evolve so bad. Wasn't just being Feebas enough? Apparently not.

After months of training, of contests, of sweet whispers in the night and even sweeter pokeblocks he had still not evolved. Over and over she asked him, angry and frustrated over and over again what the problem was and he could never answer her.

Then she left him here, by the riverside, not even in the water but in the grass. She gave him a final aggravated sigh, a half-hearted goodbye, and he never saw her ever again. Why? She said they were friends. She made him believe he would be great, the most beautiful thing ever to grace the waters of Honen.

But she changed the rules, she stole the dice, she changed the cards right in the middle of the game. Game over.  No do-overs. It just wasn't fair.

_I'd like to get even to get even_

_With you, cause you're leavin'_

_But sad songs and waltzes aren't selling this year_

After hours of crying for her to come back, that he could do better, he could still make her proud he realized she was not coming back. He yelled to the sky (for flopping in the grass that was all he could see) for justice, to warn other pokemon not to let themselves be fooled by promises meant to be broken and sweet whispers in the night only to be left baking in the hot afternoon sun.

The sky heard him, and answered. It was not the answer he wanted. A swellow swooped down and landed beside him. Happily, the feebas opened his mouth to tell the swellow and sing his sad tale. But before he could speak, a sharp bill hammered down, pecking and scratching trying to cut through his rough scales for an easy meal. A linoone joined it and tried slashed with it's powerful claws. Neither had their easy meal, the scales shielded him and the attackers could not get past them. He was safe from mealtime.

But it still hurt.

And the whole time the feebas tried to tell them his story to tell them they'd more important things to worry about than an easy dinner.

But they would not listen. They left, eventually. They left him alone. 

_It's a good thing that I'm not a star_

_You don't know how lucky you are_

"It would have been nice" said the feebas to himself "If I could evolve. No one ever took pokemon like magikarp and feebas and wormple seriously, but once evolved they are beautiful. _You're_ beautiful. And when you're beautiful they admire you, they listen to you. If only he could be a magnificent milotic, he would sing his sad song and everyone, everyone would hear. He had heard that the Pokemon League took away a trainer's right to raise pokemon if they knew the pokemon had been mistreated or hurt. If he were a milotic, he'd swim (or fly, could milotic fly? He hoped so.) right up to them and tell them every thing. And his former trainer, his false friend would pay dearly.

But it would never happen. He couldn't evolve and didn't know why.

And for who know how long his former trainer would go unpunished, never knowing just how fortunate she was that her little feebas never evolved.

_Though my record may say it_

_No one will play it _

There. His composition was done. But he was all alone. No one to sing it to. Who would hear it? If no one was around to hear it, what point was there in composing it in the first place? The feebas gave a depressed bubbly sigh. Maybe it was true. He was nothing but a worthless dull witted dry scaled thing with tattered fins.

_Sad songs and waltzes _

_Aren't selling this year_

Even if someone were around to hear, would they even care?

"Well" said the feebas "**I **care. At least, I think."  The feebas stared at the ivory moon glowing and shimmering at him from high above the riverbed.

The feebas ate all the food he could find and tried to go to sleep with his stomach still growling.

He closed his eyes, sighed and began to sing himself to sleep with his song.

_Sad songs and waltzes _

_Aren't selling this year_

It made him feel worse than he already did.

Invisible in the greenish blue depths of the river, tears formed in his eyes.

He stopped singing.

He never sang again.


End file.
